


A Little Unsteady (STM)

by ofproperform



Series: Spilling The Milkshake Series [2]
Category: Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Anime & Manga), Bishoujo Senshi Sailor Moon | Pretty Guardian Sailor Moon (Musicals)
Genre: Gender Dysphoria, Injury, Injury Recovery, Major Character Injury, Other, Trans Seiya Kou, after the events of stars, au where seiya comes back to earth for some time by himself, back story for the au in spilling the milkshake, pop idols have feelings too, solo career seiya
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-03-06
Updated: 2017-03-06
Packaged: 2018-09-30 00:40:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10149026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ofproperform/pseuds/ofproperform
Summary: When you're an idol, merely coming back to earth without the rest of your boyband isn't easy.





	1. Search For Your Love

**Author's Note:**

> This is really to explain what happens when Seiya returns and what his comeback tour was like. It's set before the Spilling The Milkshake really starts, but it's part of it's continuity.

When he finally relented and agreed to a solo show; the official “ _Starlight Breakup_ ” tour beginning (his manager named the tour the “ _Blackhole Tour_ ”-- he was faced with a few struggles. Because when you show up but the other two equally famous guys from your boy band are nowhere to be found, the world asks questions. There were the interviews he had to do magazine spots about the silence of the other two band members. He had to explain that his band mates were okay; and he was luckily able to use official signatures from Taiki and Yaten on written explanations of why they were now leaving the Three Lights; for Taiki he was going to travel abroad to see and learn new things to one day hopefully pursue a career in writing, for Yaten they were going to explore new artistic routes such as painting, but that they hoped to one day study medicine.  

There were fan theories and outrage abounding, fans distressed and heartbroken about the breakup of the popular idol group. Seiya finds it funny that now that they're no longer a trio they're getting more attention. Haruka gives him guff for it. Says he'll probably never get the popularity back. He laughs but bets they're right.

The preparation for the first concert was long, it started with a press release revealing his intentions to come back solo, a press tour that took a few months, and then the creation of the set list to get into the swing of things, setting the mood for his return, and the concert set up, from backdrops to lighting to costume changes.

 He asked for less pomp and circumstance, requesting it to be a relaxed and casual affair. There were countless rehearsals. For weeks they practiced relentlessly. Winding down to the last few days he couldn't help feeling the nagging that he was so lucky to be able to come live this life and the others were home, protecting Kakyuu, living lives they had wanted more.

He missed them too. Terribly. The day before the set was finalized, they had finally agreed to an homage to the other Kous; two shining lights that they used to stand under would now serve as reminders to the fans that it took three to make them famous, they had been the Three Lights, now it was just Seiya Kou.

* * *

When the lights came up as the first notes of  the song pounded out, ' _Towards the Shootin’ Star_ ,' the lights dazzled and dizzied around the audience before all three pinpointed one spot on the stage, a solitary figure suddenly illuminated with light as the first lines are sung. When the flanking lights pull away they settle on two bouquets, wide displays of flowers.

Under the blue light is a bouquet of angelica, arborvitae, bay, fern, chamomile, edelweiss, white geranium, purple hyacinth, the calming purple hyssop, iris, blue salvia, pale yellow zinnia, and yellow roses. Under the green light was one of aloe, arborvitae, fern, bay, horehound, ivy, light blue geranium, white daffodil, white daisies, iris, pale blue zinnia, and blue and green roses. For mere moments the screen shows images of the bouquets in their vases: one was yellow with stripes of violet and lilac, the other a sky blue with a violet and red stripe.

The concert was the old songs, some acoustic ( _See Me, It’s Our Era_ ,) some with a full backed band ( _Chasin’ After You_.) He finished it with the goodbye they were always synonymous with, the encore of Towards the Shooting Star with just slightly lyrics, Search For Your Love. He performs it acoustic, under soft diffused lights. Eagle eyed fans would report later that they could have sworn that it was the faintest of a rainbow.

* * *

 

A few months of performances before the finale concert, one where he was joined by famously out pair Haruka and Michiru the event made even more a celebration with the two of them on stage with him (the now famous bouquets replaced by a violinist and pianist,) and the front row seeing warm and loud reception from seven girls and a few assorted friends cheering on their friend they’d scarcely seen during this time.

He was slowly able to let go of his friends so far away. He was sure he'd see them one day; for now Earth was home, but until then, two boquets in his dressing room with notes "for health," and "for life," sewn into their ribbons were reminders that he could keep going.

When the concert was over Seiya hopped from the stage and over to Usagi who was flanked by her boyfriend and best friends who circled him, and as the camera followed him (and Haruka, still protective of Usagi and always wary of Seiya,) he presented a red rose to her with a cheeky smile.


	2. When There's Nothing Left to Burn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know I’m convinced he’s just trying to burn through his fuku. Maybe it’ll need replacing.”
> 
> “Right; because that’s how it works, burn one get one free.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another sidefic to Spilling The Milkshake, this one explains his fuku (there will be artwork of it soon.)

He’s running in high boots and the uncomfortably revealing bralet that his planetary fuku provides and he’s 100% sure somewhere Haruka is saying something witty about “ _your princess must really like Leather_,” when it happens. There’s a bright

**flash**

and the youma catches him off guard and Seiya is tossed back like a rag doll and he’s airborne for about five seconds- long enough to curl in and right himself enough to fire off his own reflexive blast, a loose charge that is weak but hard enough to throw the youma off , giving Seiya time to land without fear of being hit a second time while he’s falling. He’s lucky they’re in an alleyway- he’s buffered by this soft metal fire escape. Wait.

**Ouch**.

Standing up he looks at the youma and charges his star yell before attacking again, the youma replying with it’s own attack. He’s screwed; the Youma attacks on multiple fronts, it doesn’t need a lateral line of fire, where Seiya’s attacks are straight on, they don’t curve, he’s got to attack full on. The youma is hit but so is he, twice, and once again he’s airborne but this time he’s bouncing up on the toes of his boots and using the push of air to keep from losing control, landing on his feet. He’s bleeding from a few of the impacts, and it smarts.

He wonders if Haruka wants to take him up on that offer of sparring soon- because _fuck_.

A loud noise from behind him and he swings around, afraid it’s a second threat, but the light is blinding and beautiful and for a moment he is in awe. He shields his eyes and the youma hisses and backs up with fear in it’s pupil-less eyes-- before the kaleidoscopic light fades and he sees who caused it.

“ **Sailor Moon**!” He calls out- before it happens all suddenly. They youma charges him, grabbing him in it’s tendril-like arms. It twists and contorts and he can see her eyes-- Usagi’s worried eyes -- widen and he remembers how many times she’s given him that look before.

He fires the star yell once between him and the youma, screaming from the hard light bursting against his own skin and he and the youma hit the ground. The youma is up within moments but the same can’t be said for Seiya, Star Fighter is grounded, the blast of his own attack too strong against his flesh, you can see streaks of burned flesh, like the worst sunburn after a bad trip to the beach. The youma is reaching for him, angry and weakened, the cornered wild animal.

Something strikes it and it recoils. As Seiya’s vision fades as he passes out he’s sure it’s bright red- he wonders if the strike came from Sailor Mars and one of her fiery, red hot blasts- but then the object fallsnear his face, and his curling fingers brush against _softness_.

It’s a **rose**?

“Now! Do it!” Another voice, his head is spinning but he’s sure that’s **Mamoru**. What, no time for a big speech, _Tuxedo Mask_?

He’s thankful actually. He could make some comment but-- he’s out cold.

 

* * *

 

When Seiya wakes up he’s groaning as he rolls over and hears the familiar voice of one of his other favorite blondes tell him to stay still. There’s softness in the snap of her voice, as she gently but firmly grabs for him to keep him laying down.

“ _Minako_ \-- my back hurts.”

“Maybe you shouldn’t be such an _**idiot**_.” She chastises as she rubs his shoulder. He groans more as he tries to lift his arm to swat her off. He’s laying on a pallet on the floor bandaged up in the shrine. Rei is walking in as he starts to sit up with Minako’s help and Rei’s disapproving face says it all.

“You could have probably killed yourself. You ripped your skin open.” Rei is sharp sounding like she would hit him if it weren't for his pain.

“I’ve used that move like--”

“ _Ten times_.” Ami walks in, typing something on her touchscreen as she presses a button. “After compiling data it’s been ten times. Far too risky.”

“You know I’m **convinced** he’s just trying to burn through his fuku.” Haruka teases as she appears in the doorway. It’s underwritten with unspoken worry, words fed through joking that don’t **reach** their eyes as they approached his sitting form and they’re sat beside him and Minako, arms folded. “Maybe it’ll need _replacing_.”

“Right; because that’s how it works, _burn one get one free_.”

“Yeah I bet you **wish**.”

  
He scoffs and looks away before he looks over himself-- there’s a thin shirt (it’s one of the really cheesy shirts he wears to sleep, it looks like the X-Files poster but reads _WE’RE ALREADY HERE_ ,) and he’s wearing thin workout shorts-- it’s all so that the burns can breathe and heal. He can see the bandages through everything, white and stark and wrapped around him, and he’s aching and feels bruises and cuts and burns and he knows he’s half the reason he’s here. He wonders who dressed him; he assumes it had been a team effort perhaps, and guesses it was Haruka and Minako, who know him most intimately and who aren’t afraid to manhandle him, too.

“So I’m probably missing _rehearsal_ or something. Can I **go**?”

  
“Please _**don’t**_.” Seiya looks up at the doorway to see Usagi and Mamoru standing there. Mamoru is untransformed-- he’s still the tuxedo-ed hero who had saved the day, dashing and dapper and damn Seiya wishes he were able to look like that rather than wearing a pair of booty shorts and gogo boots. Seiya tries but cannot stop the grimace, and watches Mamoru peel off his mask, pocketing in the pocket in his coat. He looks unfazed, that ‘I’ve seen worse’ expression scribbled over his handsome features, but there is a layer of concern he’s wearing under that masks.

“Usagi, Mamoru.” He makes an unhappy noise and sits straighter as Usagi settles in on her knees beside him, a soft hand over one of his bruise-riddled thighs (he’s noticing now how many old bruises are there under her pale hand and he winces at how reckless he’s become.) She frowns so softly he wonders why the universe let her be so gentle. He looks away and keeps counting bruises, focusing on that.

“ _Seiya_ \--” she is mumbling her words because she is chewing her lip, he can hear her soft fumbling of it all. “You don’t have to do silly things to g-get” she falls into tears, and he tries to reach her, but he hurts and falls short of wrapping her in a hug and cringes, letting her instead collapse on him. For such a clutzy girl she’s so incredibly gentle. She curls in on him, draping herself over him, nuzzling her head into his shoulder, hiding her crying face. He brings his hand up to stroke silky silver-blonde hair and his words - I’m sorry, I’m stupid and reckless, I won’t do it again (I’m lying) please don’t worry- tumble and toss themselves over her in careless splashes. He holds her close to him and breathes in her sweet smell-- she smells like a milkshake and he feels comfortable and he just settles in for a moment before a wide palm and long fingers splash over his back and he realizes Mamoru still exists.

Mamoru is not being defensive or putting himself in the moment. He’s giving a gentle rub to Seiya’s back as he whispers his comfort. Seiya looks away sheepishly, before letting Usagi go. He can’t help thinking he wishes he was more like Mamoru- he’s handsome and gentle and a figure of calm in a storm and- Seiya gets caught in the whirlwind of self-deprecation that goes with comparing apples to oranges and he hears Mamoru clear his throat and realizes he’s been staring with such hurt at Mamoru that he’s pulling away and trying to look less visible.

Mamoru moves out of the way and is replaced by others and there’s gentle pressure on his shoulder as Setsuna sits down and waves dismissively. Ami starts ushering Rei and Minako and the others out, directing them to where Mako has been cooking and baking because all this stress is certainly going to make someone hungry. When Haruka picks up a call from Michiru and darts out of the room to the words “ _It was Seiya_ ,” he prepares for a call or text later of the most punishing sort. Mamoru eases Usagi out with the promise of food and reminds her that Luna is still a cat and needs to be fed, and suddenly he’s alone in the room, on the floor with Setsuna.

He’s never really been face to face with her, and she smells like lilies and geraniums and something woody and rich. He sees a backpack, it’s Haruka’s travel pack, left on top of a pair of his shoes, neatly tucked into the corner, and realizes letting Haruka have a key to his apartment came in handy, after all. His attention directs back to the emerald haired woman looking him over with a stare he’s sure has seen Rome topple, and swallows thick.

“Ami’s going to be back later, she’s making sure we have the best materials for your wounds. Mamoru will probably be back too. You’re lucky there’s so many people that can patch you up that care about you-” Setsuna laughs as she assists him back down onto the cot to lay. He’s never been this close and this alone with her, so as she starts to lift his shirt he feels embarrassed, to which unflinchingly she keeps working, speaking again “I know, by the way. You’re fine. You crashing and burning when you flirt is more embarrassing.”

He lays there, blushing vividly as she works to redress his wounds, the two of them avoiding small talk.

“When did you know?”

“The first time you were on stage and I saw you, I knew who you were. I knew you cried when you watched Lilo and Stitch the first time I saw you with Usagi. The first time I saw you in battle I could see you convincing the others to crossdress to blend in.”

“So, for a **while**.”

“You could say that.” She finishes up in relative silence, before giving him a soft smile. He wonders what it’s for, but doesn’t question it, as she gets up, and leaves.

He lays there and nods off for a moment, before the door slides open again. He tries to pretend to be asleep, expecting another embarrassing encounter with Setsuna, but is surprised when it’s Mamoru. Mamoru sits down beside Seiya, setting cookies down that had been wrapped in a pretty pink wrapper, and stretched for a minute. With his eyes still almost shut Mamoru was keeping watch over Seiya. Momentarily after stretching he checked the aliens temperature, and then his pulse, before briefly lifting the shirt to look at and make sure the wounds weren’t seeping too badly.

Seiya opens his eyes and locks gazes with the other male, coughing as he reaches up to smooth his shirt down gingerly.

“I brought you cookies. Makoto made them and Usagi decorated them for you.” Mamoru chuckles, before picking one up to show a slowly sitting up Seiya. Each bite sized cookie is decorate differently, but this one has the star yell on it. Another has a heart in their favorite corresponding colors. One has Usagi’s brooch. Some of them have the Mau’s faces and some of them have simple shapes like stars and hearts and one is just a mess. Seiya chuckles too and picks up one that’s flipped upside down. It’s decorated with an odango.

“ **Odango** -” they say in unison, stopping and laughing. If there was one thing that had been great, it’s that Mamoru didn’t come back and take the nickname from Seiya. He shared it with the other comfortably. Perhaps knowing there was no competition. Or perhaps knowing it was just a nickname. Once they’re over the laughter, they each take bites of the cookies and sit in silence for a moment.

“That was pretty reckless, Seiya.” Mamoru levels, shrugging his broad shoulders. Seiya notes how strong his jaw is, how Rei once talked about the reason he even gave thought to school overseas being that he wanted to connect to his family, the family that was gone now, but that had been Japanese-American. He wonders who in his family had the stately nose, the prominent brow-bone. He wonders why he was born so petite, so lithe. Why he couldn’t have been like Taiki. “Seiya, what if you’d ended up with life-threatening injuries?”

He’s so lost in examining Mamoru’s features that “Healer will help fix that-” slips out. He forgets for a minute that Taiki and Yaten aren’t there. He snaps back to reality in moments and the ramification of the slip-up are immediate. Cheeks red with embarrassment, he looks down and away “I jus- well…. I’m used to being able to _rely_ on Healer.”

“None of our Senshi **heal** ”

“... Right. Sorry.” He looks away and finishes the Usagi x Seiya heart cookie in silence. Mamoru grabs him gently by the shoulder.

“You have to figure out this,” he motions to Seiya’s body, in wide and sweeping gesture “before you get sloppier and cost yourself the battle, or get someone else hurt.” He knows Mamoru is right. He curses the cosmos for this particular truth, and feels sick to his stomach. He doesn’t know if that’s the pain or not, but he’s fighting to keep the cookies and the anxiety down.

“I just…. In a perfect world, I was born the _same way_ as you…”

“It’s imperfect. There’s a lot wrong with it. My parents are gone, Makoto had to take care of herself for years, Rei has a terrible father, Usagi has crippling self-doubt, in a perfect world none of that would exist. We’d all be blissful and happy and that wouldn’t make us strong, though.”

“Yeah, but the suffering doesn’t just help build character. It tears you up.”

“I know, Seiya.” He grabs Seiya’s phone from inside the bag Haruka had set up. “I’m glad you two are friends. Haruka was the first person Usagi called, you know? Had them pick us up.” He says it with such flip that Seiya almost doesn’t see how much it means to Mamoru even.

“I’m putting my number in your phone. Call me when you need someone and you don’t know who to go to.” He explains, smiling. When he’s finished he hands Seiya the phone. The screen glows softly and Seiya sits there, trying not to let his feelings show.

“Mamoru…”

“What’s up?”

“I’m glad you’re the person she loves.”

Mamoru laughs awkwardly as he fights a blush by stuffing his face full of a cookie, and Seiya lays back down. “I’ll let you get back to sleep.” He says as he stands and slips from the room.

* * *

 

A month later he’s calling Mamoru and when Mamoru picks up it’s groggy, just off a shift-voice Mamoru. The sound of soft concern that bubbles when Mamoru realizes who is on the other end is responded to with reassurance.

“Come see this, man. When you get the chance. **Don’t** tell Usagi.”

By the time Mamoru is awake enough to make the trek to the studio apartment Seiya owns, Seiya and Haruka are sat on the floor eating delivery and playing video games. Seiya is complaining because he wanted to play the character that Haruka snagged first. Haruka reassures him that they’ll let him have the character next time (they’re lying.) Mamoru enters on is own, looking around at unfamiliar furniture and trying to figure out what he needs to see.

“Oh finally, he’s here.” Haruka says. They shoot Mamoru an impatient look and pause the game before standing, stretching, and padding over to greet the man. Seiya follows behind. His wounds healed faster than they would have on an average human, coupled with round-the-clock care. But it’s not that which is important.

“Okay. Sit down.”

Haruka motions to the bartop counter in the kitchenette and Seiya ushers them over. Haruka and Mamoru sit down and Seiya holds a hand up, before counting down from 5, 4, 3, 2, 1,

“Sailor Starfighter! Make Up!” the blinding light of transformation engulfs him and for a moment Haruka and Mamoru shield their eyes while it seems Seiya is being engulfed in the very name sake of the starlights, and when it dissipates, leaving him surrounded in a hazy glow, he is wearing something far from the old boots-and-bralet of the past.

“Sailor Starlight, Stage On!” He cheers, before posing triumphantly, looking at them both.

“So, **no more** setting yourself on fire?”


End file.
